“But ain’t they very large?”
“Oh, yes,” was the reply, “big as my leg, and so long.”
He made a mark on the soft earth with one foot, and then took seven paces, where he made a fresh mark, indicating a length of about eighteen feet.
“But they attack men sometimes, don’t they?” said Tom, importantly.
“No, I never knew of such a thing,” said Ali. “They steal the chickens, and swallow them whole.”
Tom felt somewhat reassured, but all the same he walked delicately over the thick herbage and amongst the scrub, not knowing but that he might plant his foot at any time upon some writhing creature, whose venomous fangs would be inserted in his leg before he could leap aside; but no such accident befell him, neither had one of the party had a single shot, when Bob declared that he was too hungry to go farther, and going on alone to where a huge prostrate tree stretched its great trunk for many yards, he was about to sit down, when he stopped short, held out one hand to indicate silence, and beckoned with the other.
Ali ran softly up, and on seeing at what his friend pointed, he signalled to one of the Malays to come.
The man came up without a sound, caught sight of Bob’s discovery—a black snake about five feet long, and going gently up, he, to the lad’s horror, suddenly seized it by the tail, and with a rapid snatch drew the reptile through the left hand up to the neck, which the Malay grasped tightly, while the reptile writhed, hissed, and angrily twined itself round the man’s bare brown arm.
“It isn’t poisonous, then?” said Tom Long, coolly.
“Yes,” replied Ali; “it is a cobra, one of our most dangerous snakes.”